By date she collects materials, Exuding care through a slow heat. And As if this potion new her desires, She pours affection while stirring lightly. Never disturbing her focus of force And, whispering discourse, She blows breath upon her spell. It looks as though, her reflection can be seen in this magic. All of her tears of happiness, sadness, Delusions and seclusions, She drips Stirring lightly while biting her lip... "It will," she forces Hoping (But, holding back, Ever so slightly) "It will become the hug that ran from aging." "Blaming surroundings invites nothing." "This carelessness I miss is bubbling..." "I'm entrusting you Couldron, To hold my pieces while I sleep." "If you seep a drop, (Shaking a finger, with a hand on her hip) "I will throw you in the ocean." With this, the potion is left Over a small flame To remain A fantasy's simmer.. We are all made To contain the eyes' glimmer